


Kisses and Confessions

by kungfunurse



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, My Original OTP, in every universe they will always be together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kungfunurse/pseuds/kungfunurse
Summary: A lovely little kissing fic to brighten up your week. Don’t worry about any canon universe. I take a little smidge from whatever I like and mix it together until it bakes up just right.
Relationships: Clark/Bruce, Superman/Batman
Comments: 7
Kudos: 112





	Kisses and Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a hot minute since I wrote anything. Grad school and a global pandemic really knocked it out of me. Thought I’d get started by returning to my first and most enduring OTP.

Bruce climbed in the window, whisper-quiet and weirdly… hesitant. Clark raised his eyebrows and turned a hand over, gesturing to the kitchen table.

“Have a seat. What brings you to town?”

Bruce fidgeted. It was surreal. Batman was never at a loss. But there he stood, in Clark’s run-down apartment, hands making abortive, half gestures. Then he took a breath and pulled the cowl back.

Clark had half expected that – this didn’t seem like a work visit. What happened next shocked him so badly he stood with the fridge door open, staring.

Bruce’s gauntlets came off, one by one. There they were, just sitting on the kitchen table. And his hands were just there. Out in the open. _Naked_. Clark felt his heart thump harder, and he knew he was blushing. It’s not that he’d never seen Bruce’s hands before. The playboy billionaire had carefully manicured fingernails, tasteful rings and elegant watches.

But these weren’t those hands. These were Bruce’s hands. The ones that lived inside Batman’s armored skin, that defused bombs and punched criminals and helped victims to their feet. Clark had never felt more like a voyeur, which said something when he could look through any wall in the city.

Bruce cleared his throat and opened his mouth, then closed it again. He swallowed, then rubbed his mouth, still fidgeting. Clark forced his gaze away from Bruce’s bare fingers and the now touch-swollen lips.

“Thirsty?” he rasped out, remembering he was still in front of the open fridge.

“Water, please,” Bruce said softly.

Clark nodded and let the fridge close, pouring two glasses and seating himself at the table. Bruce hesitated, then sat across, their knees almost bumping. After a long swallow, Bruce set his glass down, intently watching the light refract as he turned it around and around on the scarred wood. “I was hoping,” he finally began. “I wanted to talk. You know.”

Clark was almost certain he did know. He took a long drink himself, then raised his eyebrows and tried to look friendly. Approachable. Bruce’s fingertip was playing with a drop of water on the side of the glass. The whorls and grooves were magnified by the wet surface, moving as he massaged the glass, mesmerizing.

“If this is a bad time?” Bruce asked and Clark realized he hadn’t said anything. He jerked his gaze back to Bruce’s face. “No, no. Now’s fine. It’s good. Fine,” he said. His throat felt hoarse.

“Good. Well,” Bruce started, then cleared his throat again. “Look, I’m just going to say this.”

“Ok.”

“When you, when we….” Bruce trailed off, staring at his water again.

“Kissed,” Clark supplied, trying not to squeeze his glass too hard.

“Yes,” Bruce looked up, pointing with his free hand. “That.”

Clark nodded encouragement.

Bruce took a deep breath, and then another. Abruptly he was on his feet, pacing around Clark’s small kitchen. 

“Look,” he ground to a halt, breathing a little hard. “Was it just. I mean I know what you were doing. The mage said I’d be trapped forever without it.”

“I was never going to let that happen,” Clark objected, sloshing his water a little.

“Right, of course not,” Bruce agreed, tossing the hand towel to him. “But here’s the thing,” he continued, pacing again and gesturing with his oddly vulnerable, bare hands. “There’s all kinds of love. Philia, eros, agape, storge,” he listed off. “I mean, you love everyone!” he spun and gestured almost accusingly. “It’s actually kind of maddening how much you just… love everyone.” His hands were in his hair now, and he’d turned to the window, staring out into the night. “What made, you know, your, ah-“

“Kiss?” Clark supplied again.

“Yes! What made yours more ‘true’ than Selina’s? Why was yours true love and not hers?”

Clark sighed and stood up, walking into the living room. The studio apartment was tiny, but had a great view of the skyline. He didn’t own much, and he didn’t miss the old one, even though it had all the expenses and modern amenities Lois had loved. He’d been happy to gift it to her and Richard. In return, they’d cashed out Richard’s 401K and bought him this place. More than fair, in Clark’s mind.

“Bruce, you know that mage was trying to punish you. It was a curse. Maybe making you doubt whether Selina loved you was the plan all along?”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Bruce spat. Clark turned back, ready for the fight that should be coming next. Bruce threw his hands up and paced closer. Then he stopped and took another breath.

“It’s not, I’m not worried about Selina,” he explained. “She and I, we’re… we know where we stand.”

“So you’re good?”

“No we’re not good!” Bruce snapped. “She left me.”

“I’m, um, sorry?” Clark offered, a little dizzy from the whiplash.

“It was never,” Bruce sighed. “We both knew it was never going to be forever. We just, that’s not who we are. Were.” He shrugged.

“Okay,” Clark said, not sure if he should try a comforting hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Then I’ll admit I’m a bit lost here.”

“It’s just, _Clark_ ,” Bruce said, turning back to him with wild eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You mean-“

“Yes I mean the kiss!”

Clark looked back out at the skyline. “I’ve been thinking about it too.”

Behind him, Bruce’s heart slammed into a faster beat. “Oh?” he asked, casually.

“I thought, maybe I’d just built it up into something, you know, all these years working side by side.”

“Yes!” Bruce pointed emphatically. “Exactly.”

“And maybe once it was out of the way-“

“It wouldn’t be anything after all,” Bruce continued. “I mean, you do love everyone.”

“And who wouldn’t feel something kissing you?” Clark broke in. “I mean, you’re so intense and god you smell so good.”

“Just psychology,” Bruce agreed.

“So,” Clark bit his lip.

“Maybe we should, you know,” Bruce suggested.

“Good idea.” Clark watched Bruce’s hands, now clenching his utility belt, knuckles turning white.

“Clark?” Bruce asked and he had to tear his eyes upwards again, to his face.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Yes, right,” Clark cleared his throat. “Good.”

“And then we’re going to move past this and get on with, you know, things. Our lives.”

“Things. Right. Good plan,” Clark nodded.

Bruce hovered closer, his bare fingers grazing up Clark’s cheek.

“Clark?” Bruce murmured, his breath whispering over Clark’s lips.

“Hmm?”

“You, ah, made a sound. Just now.”

“Oh?”

“Still good?”

“Yeah, yes. Don’t, um, don’t stop,” Clark whispered.

“Okay, right.”

Bruce leaned in and pressed their lips together.

“There, that wasn’t anything,” Bruce whispered, pulling back an inch. “Just psychology.”

“Yup,” Clark agreed. His stomach felt like molten lava, and there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room. Bruce was breathing too fast, taking up all the air, all the space. His fingers carded back into Clark’s hair and tugged a little.

“You, ah, made that sound again,” Bruce rasped out. His eyes were huge, the pupils blown wide and dark.

“Oh,” Clark gasped, leaning his forehead against Bruce’s. “Well that’s, I mean,”

“Yeah,” Bruce panted back. “Maybe, we should be sure? One more?”

Clark groaned and kissed him, feeling like he’d swallowed the sun, burning up inside and out, shuddering to scorched flames as Bruce kept touching him with his hands, his naked fingers touching and teasing and pulling and god-

Bruce pulled back for a deep gasp of air and immediately returned, biting and licking into Clark’s mouth. He was hard, they were both so fucking hard, and somehow Clark had pinned Bruce up against the wall, bare brick digging into his armored back.

“I think,” Clark panted, dragging his lips down Bruce’s neck to bite and suck and make Bruce moan, “I think maybe it’s true love if it’s, you know, both. Both people.” He bit his white teeth carefully on Bruce’s shoulder, shuddering at Bruce’s growl of pleasure.

“You could be on to something,” Bruce rumbled, dark and intense. “Let’s find out.”


End file.
